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FROM THE LIBRARY OF 
REV. LOUIS FITZGERALD BENSON, D. D. 

BEQUEATHED BY HIM TO 

THE LIBRARY OF 

PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 



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DM ileal 
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Digitized by the Internet Archive 

in 2012 with funding from 

Princeton Theological Seminary Library 



http://archive.org/details/sesacreOOIond 




SACRED POETRY. 



The gift of God, by God infused, 
Should be for God, the donor, used ; 
God is of love and joy the source, 
His gifts should have a godlike force, 
And gifted poets should excit3 
Pure heavenly iove and pure delight. 

Bishop Kkx. 




LONDON: 
PRINTED BY S. BENTLEY AND CO. 

BANOOR HOUSE, SHOE T.ANE. 

1847. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Affliction, the end of .... 28 

Best wishes ..... 32 

Bible, the . . . . .23 

Birds of the air .... 42 

Bishop, Visitation of an American . . 33 

Blind, appeal of the .... 39 

Blindness, on the Author's, (Milton's) . . 40 

Charity Schools, on the Anniversary Meeting of, 

in St. Paul's Cathedral ... 43 

Christ our example . • . . 6 

,, second coming of ... 72 

,, weeping over Jerusalem . . .70 

Christian pastor . . . . .35 

,, pilgrim . . . . n 

,, departure of the . . . .54 

Christian's comfort . . . . 10 

,, prospect .... 48 

Communion, Holy .... 8 

Comparison, a . . . . . 31 

Contentment . . . , .59 

Creation, the beauties of 49 

Cross, influence of the .... 7 



CONTENTS. 



Daisy, the 
Day of rest 
Day of wrath 
Devotedness 
Discipline 

Flowers of the field 

Fountain, the Wayside . 

Friends, dying 

Friends separated by death 

Friendship 

Funeral Service 

Funeral, lines suggested by a 

Future concealed 

God our Helper 
God, the goodness of 
Golden Rule 

Heaven 

Heavenly blessings . 

,, direction 
Heavenward course . 
Hope, Christian 

Illumination, Divine 

Jerusalem, the new 
Jewish nation, the 
Jews, the example of 
Just, remembrance of the 

Leaf, the falling 

Life, the uncertainty of 

Lord, the, always before DM 



CONTENTS 



Memory 

Messiah's reign . 
" coming 
Mortality 

Ocean, the 

Past, reflection on the 

Peace 

Peter, weeping . 

Prayer, seasons of . 

,, evening 
Preacher, the 

Provident society, lines for 
Prosperity, the dangers of 

Religion 
Rest, the day of 
Resurrection, the 
Righteous, death of the 

Sabbath bell 
Saviour's gift 
Seasons, the 
Seed, the heavenly 
Self-examination 
Sky-lark, to a 
Sponsors 

Stream, the living 
Submission 
Summer, departure of 

,, evening 
Supreme Being, to the 



VI CONTENTS 

Tares, the, destroyed 
Time, misemployed . 

Trouble, support in 

Vicarage, the 
Visitation, on a 

Way- side fountain, the 

Weep not for me 

Wisdom, true 

Worldly pleasures, the vanity of 

Worm, the 

Worship, places of 

Wrath, the day of 



74 
52 
15 

60 
33 

25 
28 
18 
58 
45 
25 
73 



A 

SELECTION 

OP 

SACRED POETRY. 



TO THE SUPREME BEING. 
FROM THE ITALIAN OF MICHAEL ANGELO. 

The prayers I make will then be sweet indeed, 
If Thou the spirit give by which I pray : 
My unassisted heart is barren clay, 
That of its native self can nothing feed : 
Of good and pious works Thou art the seed. 
Unless Thou shew to us thine own true way, 
No man can find it. Father ! thou must lead. 
Do Thou, then, breathe those thoughts into my mind 
By which such virtue may in me be bred, 
That in thy holy footsteps I may tread ; 
The fetters of my tongue do Thou unbind, 
That I may have the power to sing of Thee, 
And sound thy praises everlastingly. 

Wordsworth. 



A SELECTION OF 



DIVINE ILLUMINATION. 

FOR WHITSUNDAY. 

Spirit of Truth ! on this thy day, 

To Thee for help we cry, 
To guide us through the dreary way 

Of dark mortality ! 

We ask not, Lord, thy cloven flame, 

Or tongues of various tone ; 
But long thy praises to proclaim, 

With fervour in our own. 

We mourn not that prophetic skill 

Is found on earth no more 
Enough for us to trace thy will 

In Scripture's sacred lore. 

When tongues shall cease, and power decay, 

And knowledge empty prove, 
Do Thou thy trembling servants stay 

With Faith, with Hope, witli Love! 

Bishop Heuer. 



SACRED POETRY. 

THE SAME SUBJECT. 

Lord ! we sit and cry to Thee, 
Like the blind beside the way : 

Make our darkened souls to see 
The glory of thy perfect day. 

Lord ! rebuke our sullen night, 

And give Thyself unto our sight ! 

Lord ! we do not ask to gaze 
On our dim and earthly sun ; 

But the light that still shall blaze, 

When every star its course hath run ; 

The light that gilds thy blest abode, 

The glory of the Lamb of God ! 

Mil man. 



THE GOODNESS OF GOD. 

The just Creator condescends to write, 
In beams of inextinguishable light, 
His names of wisdom, goodness, power, and love, 
On all that blooms below or shines above, 
To catch the wandering notice of mankind, 
And teach the world, if not perversely blind, 
His gracious attributes, and prove the share 
His offspring hold in his paternal care : 



4 A SELECTION OF 

If, led from earthly things to things divine, 
His creature thwart not his august design, 
Then praise is heard instead of reasoning pride, 
And captious cavil and complaint subside. 
Nature, employed in her allotted place, 
Is handmaid to the purposes of Grace; 
By good vouchsafed makes known superior good, 
And bliss not seen by blessings understood ; 
That bliss revealed in Scripture, with a glow 
Bright as the covenant-ensuring bow; 
Fires all his feelings with a noble scorn 
Of sensual evil, and thus hope is born. 

COWPER. 



GOD OUR HELPER. 

Thrice happy man, whose soul is staid 
On God's unseen but certain aid ; 
Beneath his shadow he '11 retreat, 
And never fear afflicting heat. 

Hear what God utters from above — 
" Since he has fixed on me his love, 
lias known and has obeyed my will, 
I '11 place him out of reach of ilk 

" Whene'er he prays, his prayer I'll hear, 
I'll in his trouble still be neat ; 



SACRED POETRY. 

Not only him from guilt redeem, 
But raise him in the world's esteem. 

" He long shall happy live below, 
My blessings him shall overflow ; 
When, languishing for heaven, he dies, 
Eternal joys shall glad his eyes." 

Bishop Ken. 



MESSIAH'S COMING. 

The Saviour comes ! by ancient bards foretold ; 
Hear him, ye deaf ! and all ye blind behold ! 
He from thick films shall purge the visual ray, 
And on the sightless eyeball pour the day : 
'Tis He the obstructed paths of sound shall clear, 
And bid new music chann the unfolding ear : 
The dumb shall sing, the lame his crutch forego, 
And leap exulting like the bounding roe. 
No sigh, no murmur, the wide world shall hear, 
From every face he wipes off every tear. 
In adamantine chains shall Death be bound, 
And HelPs grim tyrant feel the eternal wound. 

Pope. 



A SELECTION OF 



CHRIST OUR EXAMPLE. 

Full of mercy, full of love, 

Look upon us from above ! 

Thou who taught'st the blind man's night. 

To entertain a double light, 

Thine and the day's, (and that thine too :) 

The lame away his crutches threw ; 

The parched crusts of leprosy 

Returned with its infancy : 

The dumb amazed was to hear 

His own unchained tongue strike his ear : 

Thy powerful mercy did ev'n chase 

The devil from his usurped place, 

Where Thou thyself shouldst dwell, not he. 

Oh let thy love our pattern be ! 

Let thy mercy teach one brother 

To forgive and love another ; 

That copying thy mercy here, 

Thy goodness may hereafter rear 

Our souls unto thy glory, when 

Our dust shall cense to be with men. 

Bishop TAYLOR. 



SACKED POETRY. 



THE LIVING STREAM. 

Within the Church a fountain springs, 
It started from the Saviour's side; 

Peace, pardon, joy, to all it brings — 
The life-blood of the Crucified. 

The living streams for ever flow, 

For ever pure, for ever free ; 
The spirit's solace here below, 

The succour for eternity. 

"Ho, every one that thirsts draw nigh !" 

Beloved hear the voice divine ! 
The broken heart, the contrite sigh, 

Are welcome there, and these are thine. 

Come, then, the Spirit calls — come now, 
In humble faith, in trembling love ; 

Drink comfort for thy sorrows here, 
And taste before, the bliss above. 

Bishop Doan* 



THE INFLUENCE OF THE CROSS. 

All graces which adorn the mind, 
An ardent love, a will resigned ; 
A lamb-like meekness, conscience clean, 
A patience humble and serene : 

B 



A SELECTION OF 

Obedience, constant and sincere, 
Undaunted courage, filial fear : 

Large charity, a temper sweet, 
All men like brethren prone to treat ; 
Devotion fixed, a zeal right-aimed ; 
Self-sacrificed, all passions tamed, 
I, with all these and numerous more , 
From Jesus Christ, myself may store. 

All praise to the incarnate God, 
Who, for my sake, the wine- press trod ; 
Who, in pure boundless love, inclined 
To give his life for lapsed mankind : 
Who miseries immense endured, 
That I might live from all secured. 

Bishop Ken. 



THE HOLY COMMUNION. 

Forth from the dark and stormy sky, 
Lord, to thine altar's shade we fly ; 
Forth from the world, its hope, and fear. 
Weary and weak, thy grace we pray ; 
Saviour, we seek thy shelter here. 
Turn not, () Lord ! thy uuosts away. 



SACRED POETRY. 

Long have we roamed in want and pain, 
Long have we sought thy rest in vain ; 
Wildered in doubt, in darkness lost, 
Long have our souls been tempest-tost ; 
Low at thy feet our sins we lay ; 
Turn not, Lord, thy guests away. 

Bishop Heber. 



THE SAVIOUR'S GIFT. 

Who feels the worth of peace ? He who has lost 
Its gladdening light when threatening clouds are 

nigh ; 
He who has viewed the agony it cost, 
The Saviour of mankind that peace to buy. 

Peace from the guilt of sin, the dread of death — 
From this world's evils, and from Satan's power ; 
A mind serene as eve's departing breath, 
That sinks to sleep the last sabbatic hour. 

" My peace I give," — what wondrous words are 

those, 
Who knows their import, and their full increase ? 
None ever will till this low life shall close, 
And heaven reveals full, perfect, deathless peace ! 

Edmkston. 



10 A SELECTION OF 



PEACE. 



Yes ; there is peace for man — yea, there is peace, 
E'en in this noisy, this unsettled scene; 
When from the crowd, and from the city far, 
Haply he may be set, (in his late walk 
O'ertaken with deep thought) beneath the boughs 
Of honeysuckle, when the sun is gone ; 
And, with fixed eye, and wistful, he surveys 
The solemn shadows of the heavens sail, 
And thinks the season yet shall come when time 
Will waft him to repose, to deep repose, 
Far from th 1 unquietness of life — from noise 
And tumult far— beyond the flying clouds, 
Beyond the stars, and all this passing scene, 
When change shall cease and time shall be no 
more. 

PI. Kirke White. 



THE CHRISTIAN'S COMFORT. 

< I Thou that read'st the Becrel heart, 
And hear'sl the Bufierer's softest Bigh, 
When I remember that Thou or*, 

1 feel each care, rach sorrow fly. 



SACRED TOETRY. 11 

Thou art, to whom the sinner's moan 
Was never yet breathed forth in vain ; 
Thou art, to whom each want is known, 
Each hopeless wish, each fruitless pain. 

And oh ! while earthly love grows cold, 
And earthly comforts break away, 
TJloil art the sufferer's certain hold, 
The same through one eternal day. 

Thy smile of love beams always bright, 
To cheer the contrite sinner's heart, 
Nor can the soul be plunged in night, 
That knows, Lord, and feels Thou art. 

Opie. 



THE CHRISTIAN PILGRIM. 

SUPPOSED TO BE SPOKEN BY A LUNATIC. 

Pilgrim, burdened with thy sin, 

Come the way to Zion's gate ; 
There, till mercy speaks within, 

Knock, and weep, and watch, and wait : 
Knock — He knows the sinner's cry, 

Weep — He loves the mourner's tears, 
Watch — for saving grace is nigh, 

Wait — till heavenly light appears. 

B 3 



12 A SELECTION OF 

Hark ! it is the bridegroom's voice, 

" Welcome, pilgrim, to thy rest ;" 
Now, within the gate, rejoice, 

Safe, and owned, and bought, and blest- 
Safe — from all the lures of vice — 

Owned — by signs the chosen know ; 
Bought — by love, and life the prize, 

Blest — the mighty debt to owe. 

Christian pilgrim ! what for thee 

In a world like this remains ? 
From thy guarded breast shall ilee 

Fear, and shame, and doubt, and pains — 
Fear — the hope of heaven shall flee, 

Shame — from glory's view retire, 
Doubt — in certain rapture die, 

Pain — in endless bliss expire. 

Crabbb. 



SEASONS OF PRAYER. 

To prayer, to prayer; for the morning breaks. 
And earth her Maker's smile awakes ; 
His light is on all below, above, 

The light of gladness, and life, and low. 

Oh, then, on tin; breath of the early air, 
Send upward the incense of grateful prayer. 



SACRED P0ETR1'. 13 

To prayer ; for the glorious sun is gone, 
And the gathering darkness of night conies on, 
Like a curtain, from Heaven's kind hand it flows, 
To shade the couch where the weary repose ; 
Then kneel while the watching stars are bright, 
And give your last thoughts to the Guardian of 
night. 

To prayer ; for the day that God has blest, 
Comes tranquilly on with its welcome rest ; 
It speaks of creation's early bloom ; 
It speaks of the Lord who burst the tomb ; 
Then summon the spirit's exalted powers, 
And devote to Heaven the hallowed hours. 

American. 



"THE LORD ALWAYS BEFORE ME. 

Saviour ! when night involves the skies, 
My soul, adoring, turns to Thee ! 

Thee, self-abased in mortal guise, 

And wrapt in shades of death for me. 

On Thee my waking raptures dwell, 
When crimson gleams the earth adorn ; 

Thee, victor of the grave and hell, 
Thee, source of life's eternal morn. 



14 A SELECTION OF 

When noon her throne in light arrays, 
To Thee my soul in triumph springs, 

Thee, throned in glory's endless blaze, 
Thee, Lord of Lords and King of Kings. 

O'er earth, when shades of evening steal, 
To death and Thee my thoughts I give, 

To death whose form I soon must feel ; 
To Thee, with whom I trust to live. 

Gisborne. 



THE HEAVENWARD COURSE. 

The bird let loose from eastern skies, 
When hastening fondly home, 

Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies 
Where idle warblers come. 

But high she shoots, through air and light, 

Above all low delay, 
Where nothing earthly bounds her flight, 

Nor shadows dim her way. 

So grant me, God, from every tare, 
And stain of passion free, 

Aloft through virtue's purer air, 
To hold niv course to Thee! 



SACRED POETRY. 15 

No sin to blight, no lure to stay 

My soul, as home she springs ; 
Thy sunshine on her joyful way, 

Thy freedom on her wings. 

Moore. 



HEAVENLY BLESSINGS. 

There is a calm the poor in spirit know, 
That softens sorrow and that sweetens woe ; 
There is a peace that dwells within the breast, 
When all without is stormy and distrest. 
There is a light that gilds the darkest hour, 
When dangers threaten and when troubles lower, 
That calm to faith, and hope, and love, is given ; 
That peace remains when all beside is riven, 
That light shines down to man direct from Heaven. 

Edmeston. 



SUPPORT IN TROUBLE. 

Oh God ! that madest earth and sky, the darkness 

and the day, 
Give ear to this thy family, and help us while we 

pray ; 



16 A SELECTION OF 

For wide the waves of bitterness around our vessel 
roar, 

And heavy grows the pilot's heart, to view the 
rocky shore. 

The cross our Master bore for us for Him we fain 
would bear, 

But mortal strength to weakness turns, and cou- 
rage to despair ; 

Then mercy to our failings, Lord, our sinking faith 
renew, 

And when thy sorrows visit us, send thy pa- 
tience too ! 

Bishop IIeber. 



CHRISTIAN HOPE. 

Hope with uplifted foot set free from earth, 
Pants for the place of her ethereal birth, 
On steady wings sails through the immense abyss, 
Plucks amaranthine joys from bowers of bliss, 
And crowns the soul, while yet a mourner here. 
With wreaths like those triumphant spirits wear. 
Hope, as an anchor firm and sure, holds fast 
The Christian vessel, and defies the blast. 
Hope! nothing else can nourish ami secure 
His new-born virtues, and preserve him pure ; 



SACRED POETRY, 17 

Hope ! let the wretch once conscious of the joy, 
Whom now despairing agonies destroy, 
Speak, for he can, and none so well as he, 
What treasures centre, what delights in thee. 
Had he the gems, the spices, and the land 
That boasts the treasure, all at his command, 
The fragrant grove, the inestimable mine, 
Were light, when weighed against one smile of 
thine. 

Cowper. 



HEAVENLY DIRECTION. 

Lord ! when heavenly dews distil, 
When my hopes are bright and clear, 
When I sit on Zion's hill, 
Temper joy with holy fear ; 

Keep me watchful, 
Safe alone when Thou art near. 

When a tempting world in view 
Gains upon my yielding heart, 
When its pleasures I pursue, 
Then a look of pity dart ; 

Teach me pleasures 
Which the world can ne'er impart ! 



18 A SELECTION OF 

When the vale of death appears, 
Faint and cold this mortal clay, 
Clear my doubts, allay my fears, 
Light me through the dreary way ; 

Chase the shadows, 
Usher in eternal day. 



TRUE WISDOM. 

But when did wisdom covet length of days, 
Or seek its bliss in pleasure, wealth, or praise ? 
No : wisdom views with an indifferent eye, 
All finite joys, all blessings born to die. 
The soul on earth is an immortal guest, 
Compelled to starve at an unreal feast ; 
A spark that upward tends by nature's force, 
A stream diverted from its parent source ; 
A drop dissevered from the boundless sea, 
A moment parted from eternity ! 
A pilgrim panting for a rest to come, 
An exile anxious for his native home. 

il. MORK. 



SACRED POETRY. 19 

DISCIPLINE. 

Throw away thy rod ; 
Throw away thy wrath ! 

my God, 
Take the gentle path. 

For my heart's desire 
Unto Thee is bent ; 

1 aspire 

To a full consent. 

Not a word or look 
I affect to own ; 

But by book, 
And thy book alone. 

Though I fail, I weep, 
Though I halt in pace, 

Yet I creep 
To the throne of grace. 

Then let wrath remove, 
Love will do the deed ; 

For with love 
Stony hearts will bleed. 

Throw away thy rod, 
Though man frailties hath, 

Thou art God ! 
Throw away thy wrath ! 

Herbert. 



20 A SELECTION OF 



RELIGION. 

Religion ! Providence ! an after state ! 
Here is firm footing : here is solid rock ! 
This can support us ; all is sea besides ; 
Sinks under us ; bestornis and then devours. 
His hand the good man fastens on the skies, 
And bids earth roll, nor feels her idle whirl. 

Young. 



THE FUTURE CONCEALED. 

Oh, how wise that God hath hidden, 

All the future from us here ! 
Oh, how kind that 'tis forbidden 

We should feel to-morrow's care ! 
If time's page of hurrying fleet noss 

Were unveiled to readers here, 
Joy itself would lose its sweetness, 

Sorrow would become despair. 

Now, if storms the ocean cover, 
Hope declares a calm is near ; 

When discordant tones are oyer, 
Softened music meets the ear: 



SACRED POETRY. 21 

If the shadows of affliction 

Round us gather as we go, 
Soon some heavenly benediction 

Wakens peace from slumbering woe. 



DEVOTEDNESS. 

My heart I, Lord, devote to thee entire, 
The victim light with thine own heavenly fire ; 
Preserve, employ, and form it as thine own, 
change my frozen to a torrid zone. 
Knowledge divine into my mind instil, 
Be Thou the constant magnet of my will ; 
Do Thou my senses guide, controul, restrain ; 
may thy love o'er all my passions reign. 
All I design, endeavour, hope, desire, 
All that I am, or have, or shall acquire, 
Without reserve I to thy will resign, 
Jesus, I am no more mine own, but thine ! 

Bishop Ken. 



SELF-EXAMINATION. 

FROM " REFLECTIONS OF KING HEZEKIAH IN HIS 

SICKNESS." 

Is all in order set, my house, my heart ? 
Does not besetting sin still claim a part ? 



22 



A SELECTION OF 



No cherished error, loath to quit its place, 
Obstruct within my soul the work of grace ? 
Did I each day for the great day prepare, 
By righteous deeds, by sin-subduiug prayer? 
Did I, each night, each day's offence repent, 
And each unholy thought and word lament ? 
Still have these ready hands the afflicted fed, 
And ministered to want her daily bread ? 
The cause I knew not did I well explore ? 
Friend, advocate, and parent of the poor ? 
Did I, to gratify some sudden gust 
Of thoughtless appetite, some impious lust 
Of pleasure or of power, such sums employ 
As would have flushed pale penury with joy ? 
Did I in groves forbidden altars raise, 
Or molten gods adore, or idols praise ? 
Did my firm faith to heaven still point the way 
Did charity to man my actions sway ? 
Did meek-eyed patience all my steps attend ? 
Did generous candour mark me for her friend ? 
Did I unjustly seek to build my fame 
On the piled ruins of another's fame p 
Did I abhor, as hell, the insidious lie, 
The low deceit, the unmanly calumny? 
Did my fixed soul the impious wit detest ? 
Did my firm virtue scorn the unhallowed jest ; 
The sneer profane, and the peer ridicule 
Of shallow infidelity's dull school? 



SACRED POETRY. 23 

Did I still live as born one day to die, 

And view the eternal world with constant eye ? 

If so I lived, if so I kept thy word, 

In mercy view, in mercy hear me, Lord : 

For, oh, how strict soe'er I kept thy law, 

From mercy only all my hope I draw ; 

My holiest deeds indulgence will require ; 

The best but to forgiveness will aspire ; 

If thou my purest services regard, 

'Twill be with pardon only, not reward. 

H. More. 



THE BIBLE. 

It is the one true light, 

That, when all other lamps grow dim, 
Shall never burn less purely bright, 

Nor lead astray from Him. 

It is love's blessed hand, 

That reaches from the eternal throne, 
To him — whoe'er he be — whose hand 

Will seize it for his own. 

It is the golden key 

To treasures of celestial wealth ; 
Joy to the sons of poverty, 

And to the sick man health. 



24 A SELECTION OF 

The gently proffered aid 

( >f ( )ne who knows us, and can best 
Sup])!)- the beings He has made, 

With what will make them blest. 

E. Taylor. 



THE DAY OF REST. 

Dear is the hallowed morn to me 
When village-bells awake the day, 
And by their sacred minstrelsy 
Call me from earthly cares away. 

And dear to me the winged hour 
Spent in thy hallowed courts, Lord, 
To feel devotion's soothing power, 
And catch the manna of thy word. 

And dear to me the loud Amen, 
Which echoes through the blest abode, 
Which swells, and sinks, and swells again, 
Dies on the walls, but lives to God. 

Go, man of pleasure, strike thy lyre, 
( If broken sabbaths ring the charms ; 

Mine be the prophet's car of fire, 
That bean us to a Father's arms! 

Cunningham. 



SACRED POETRY. 25 

PLACES OF WORSHIP. 

As star that shines dependent upon star, 

Is to the sky while we look up in love ; 

As to the deep fair ships, which though they move, 

Seem fixed, to eyes that watch them from afar ; 

As to the sandy deserts fountains are, 

With palm-groves shaded at wide intervals, 

Whose fruit around the sun-burnt native falls, 

Of roving tired, or desultory war, — 

Such to this British Isle her Christian Fanes, 

Each linked to each for kindred services ; 

Her spires, her steeple-towers with glittering vanes 

Far-kenned, her chapels lurking among trees, 

Where a few villagers on bended knees, 

Find solace which a busy world disdains. 

Wordsworth. 



THE WAY-SIDE FOUNTAIN. 

I passed, as once I journeyed on a long and lone- 
some way, 

A fountain formed that travellers might their 
fever'd thirst allay ; 

And many way-worn pilgrims, by the noon -tide 
heat opprest, 

Had halted near the gushing stream to pass their 
hour of rest. 



26 A SELECTION OF 

England ! this fountain is thy Church ; for ages 
she hath been 

To all thy sighing, sorrowing sons a soul-refresh- 
ing stream ; 

Pleasant have been the hours they passed beneath 
her holy shade, 

And round about her hallowed walls their best- 
beloved are laid. 

Whene'er the spoiler threatens, canst thou guilt- 
less stand to see 

Polluted or impaired the fount thy fathers left to 
thee ? 

They to their sons the sacred trust unsullied did 
resign ; 

See that thou fail not to bequeath it unimpaired 
to thine. 



THE SABBATH BELL. 

Sweetly the Sabbath bell 

Steals on the ear, 
That in the house of prayer 

Bids us appear. 
" Children of God," it seems 

Softly to say, 
M Haste t<» your Father's house, 

Hasten to pray.* 1 



SACRED POETRY. 27 

Sadly the funeral bell 

Strikes on the heart, 
When from their earthly home 

Kind friends depart. 
How like a warning voice 

Sent from on high — 
" Like him for whom we toll, 

Thou, too, must die." 

Oft as the Sabbath chimes 

Summon to pray, 
May we their holy call 

Gladly obey. 
That when the last sad knell 

For us shall sound, 
Ready our Judge to meet 

We may be found. 



LINES SUGGESTED BY A FUNERAL. 

Our eyes have seen the rosy light 

Of youth's soft cheek decay ; 
And death descend in sudden night 

On manhood's middle day. 

Our eyes have seen the steps of age 
Halt feebly towards the tomb ; 

And yet shall earth our hearts engage, 
And dreams of days to come ? 



28 A SELECTION OF 

Turn, mortal, turn ! thy clanger know, 
Where'er thy foot can tread ; 

The earth rings hollow from below, 
And warns thee of the dead. 

Turn, Christian, turn ! thy soul apply 

To truths divinely given ; 
The bones that underneath thee lie 

Shall live for hell or heaven. 

». Bishop Heber. 



THE END OF AFFLICTION. 

The gloom of the night adds a charm to the morn, 
Stern winter the spring-time endears, 

And the darker the cloud on which it is drawn, 
The brighter the rainbow appears. 

So trials and sorrows the Christian prepare 

For the rest that remaincth above ; 
On earth tribulation awaits him ; but there 

The smile of unchangeable love. 



WEEP NOT FOR ME. 

When the spark of life is waning, 

Weep not lor me ; 
When the languid eye ii straining, 

Weep not for me. 



SACRED POETRY. 20 

When the feeble pulse is ceasing, 
Start not at its swift decreasing ; 
Tis the fettered soul's releasing, — 
Weep not for me. 

When the pangs of death assail me, 

Weep not for me ; 
Christ is mine — He cannot fail me — 

Weep not for me. 
Yes, though sin and doubt endeavour 
From his love my soul to sever, 
Jesus is my strength for ever — 

Weep not for me. 

Dale. 



SUBMISSION. 

AN INSCRIPTION NEAR THE SPRING OF A 
HERMITAGE. 

Troubled long with warring notions, 
Long impatient of thy rod, 
I resign my soul's emotions 
Unto Thee, mysterious God ! 

What avails the kindly shelter 
Yielded by this craggy rent, 
If my spirit toss and welter 
On the waves of discontent ? 



30 A SELECTION OF 

Parching summer hath no warrant 
To consume this crystal well ; 
Rains that made each rill a torrent, 
Neither sully it nor swell. 

Thus dishonouring not her station, 
Would my life present to Thee, 
Gracious God, the pure oblation 
Of divine tranquillity ! 

Wordsworth. 



EVENING PRAYER. 

Dark shades of night, 
Above, below, around us hover ; 
Lord of light ! 
Be thy blest wings our cover ; 
Be thy holy arm 
Our shield from harm, 
Till night is over. 

Lo ! we bend down 
In humble penitence before Thee, 

For merciee shewn 
Our grateful hearts adore Thee ; 

For help ami grace 

In future days. 
Still we implore Thee. 



SACRED POETRY. 31 

Bli^s those wo love 
This night with us thy throne addressing ; 

Send from ahove 
The peace beyond expressing ; 

Through Christ our Lord, 

The eternal Word, 
(Jivo us thy blessing. 



A COMPARISON. 

The lapse of time and rivers is the same ; 

Both speed their journey with a restless stream ; 

The silent pace with which they steal away, 

No wealth can bribe, no power persuade to stay ; 

Alike irrevocable both when past, 

And a wide ocean swallows both at last. 

Though each resemble each in every part, 

A difference strikes at length the musing heart ; 

Streams never flow in vain ; where streams abound, 

How laughs the land, with various plenty crowned ; 

But time, which should enrich the nobler mind, 

Neglected, leaves a dreary waste behind. 

Cowper. 



32 A SELECTION OF 

LINES FOR A PROVIDENT SOCIETY. 

Say, shall the little ant, with toil and pain, 
Store in the earth its heaps of hoarded grain, 
And make provision for the coming hour, 
When frosts shall pinch, and winter's skies shall 

low'r ; — 
And shall not man, rejoicing in his prime, 
Think that he, too, must have his wintry time, 
When age, or wasting malady, shall dim 
The eye, and palsy the once active limb ? 
Oh ! let these insects teach thee to be wise, 
And ere, with health and youth, th)- vigour flies, 
From what the Lord has given thee, let thy care 
The means of future sustenance prepare ; 
Nor in the days of life and strength, forget 
The vast eternity before thee set. 
Lay up for it ! for those true riches toil, 
Which nwt shall not corrupt, nor robbers spoil ! 

K. W. Kyle. 



BEST WISHES. 

Who art tlion, Btrangei P nay. read on, 

I will not ask thy name or lot ; 
Whether thy days be well nigh -oik- 

Or in their spring — it matters not ; 
Thou art my brother ! and for thee, 
Stranger ! shall my best wishes be. 



SACRED POETRY. 33 

Life is a sea of stormy pain; 

Thou know'st it, or thou soon wilt know; 
Thine be the faith that braves the main, 

When its most angry tempests blow. 
Thine the anchor cast within the veil ! 
None ever knew that mooring fail. 

Thine be the refuge, — ever found 

By them who seek in faith and prayer, 

From all the trials that abound 

Throughout this wilderness of care, 

The faithfulness of Him, whose love 

Storms cannot quench, nor death remove. 

And when thy Master calls thee, thine— 
Thine be the crown of endless joy, 

Where heaven's eternal rivers shine 
Beneath a bright and cloudless sky. 

Those realms — how beautiful and fair,— 

Stranger ! a blissful meeting there ! 



ON A VISITATION 

BY BISHOP MORE OF VIRGINIA. 

They cluster'd round — that listening throng- 

The parting hour drew nigh, — 
And heighten'd feeling deep and strong, 

Spoke forth from eye to eye. 



34 A SELECTION (»1 

For reverend in his hoary years, 

A white-robed prelate bent, 
And trembling pathos wing'd his words, 

As to the heart they went. 

With saintly love, he urg\l the crowd 

Salvation's hope to gain, 
While, gathering o'er his furrow'd cheek, 

The tears fell down like rain ; — 

He waved his hand, and music woke, 

A warm and solemn strain, 
His favourite hymn swelPd high, and fill'd 

The consecrated fane. 

Then from the hallow'd chancel forth, 
With faltering step, he sped, 

And fervent laid a father's hand 
On every priestly head. 

And breathed the blessing of his God 

And, full of meekness, said, 
" Be faithful in your Master's work 

When your old Bishop's dead. 

kw For more than fifty years, my sons, 
A Saviour'i love supreme, 

I ' n to a sinful world hath been 
My unexhausted theme : — 



SACRED POETRY. 35 

" Now, see the blossoms of the grave 

Are o'er my temples spread, — 
Oh ! lead the seeking soul to Him 

When your old Bishop's dead." 

Mrs. Sigourney. 



THE CHRISTIAN PASTOR. 

Give me the priest these graces shall possess — 

Of an ambassador the just address ; 

A father's tenderness, a shepherd's care ; 

A leader's courage, which the cross can bear ; 

A ruler's awe, a watchman's wakeful eye ; 

A pilot's skill, the helm in storms to ply ; 

A fisher's patience, and a labourer's toil ; 

A guide's dexterity to disembroil ; 

A prophet's inspiration from above ; 

A teacher's knowledge, and a Saviour's love. 

Give me the priest, a light upon a hill, 

Whose rays his whole circumference can fill ; 

In God's own word and sacred learning versed. 

Deep in the study of the heart immersed ; 

Who in sick souls can the disease descry. 

And wisely for restoratives apply : 

i) 3 



3G A SELECTION OF 

To beatific pastures leads his sheep, 

Watchful from hellish wolves his fold to keep, 

Who seeks not a convenience but a cure, 

Would rather souls than his own gain ensure. 

Instructive in his visits and converse, 

Strives everywhere Salvation to disperse ; 

Of a mild, humble, and obliging heart, 

Who with his all will to the needy part ; 

Distrustful of himself, in God confides, 

Daily himself among his flock divides ; 

Of virtue uniform, and cheerful air, 

Fixed meditation, and incessant prayer ; 

Affections mortified, well-guided zeal, 

Of saving truth the relish wont to feel, 

Whose province, heaven, all his endeavour shares, 

Who mixes with no secular affairs, 

Oft on his pastoral amount reflects, 

By holiness, not riches, gains respects ; 

Who is all that he would have others be, 

From wilful sin, though not from frailty, free ; 

Who still keeps Jesus in his heart and head, 

Who strives the steps of our High Priest to tread, 

Who can himself and all the world deny. 

Lives pilgrim here, but denizen on high. 

Bishop Ken. 



SACKED POETRY. 37 



THE PREACHER. 



He preached the joys of heaven, and pains of hell, 
And warned the sinner with becoming zeal ; 
But on eternal mercy loved to dwell. 
He taught the gospel rather than the law ; 
And forced himself to drive, but loved to draw. 
For Fear but freezes minds ; but Love, like heat, 
Exhales the soul sublime, to seek her native seat. 
To threats the stubborn sinner oft is hard, 
Wrapped in his crimes, against the storm prepared; 
But when the milder beams of Mercy play, 
He melts and throws his cumbrous cloak away. 
Lightning and thunder (Heaven's artillery) 
As harbingers before the Almighty fly : 
Those but proclaim his style, and disappear ; 
The stiller sound succeeds, and God is there. 

Dryden. 



SPONSORS. 

Father ! to God himself we cannot give 
A holier name ! Then lightly do not bear 
Both names conjoined, but of thy spiritual care. 
Be duly mindful : still more sensitive 



38 A SELECTION OF 

Do Thou, in truth, a second mother strive 
Against disheartening custom, that by Thee 
Watched, and with love and pious industry, 
Tended at need, the adopted plant may thrive 
For everlasting bloom. Benign and pure 
This Ordinance, whether loss it would supply, 
Prevent omission, help deficiency, 
Or seek to make assurance doubly sure. 
Shame if the consecrated vow be found 
An idle form, the word an empty sound ! 

Wordsworth. 



THE HEAVENLY SEED. 

Oh God ! by whom the seed is given ; 

By whom the harvest blest, 
Whose word, like manna, showered from heaven, 

Is planted in the breast. 

Preserve it from the passing feet, 

And plunderers of the air ; 
The sultry sun's intenser heat, 

And weeds of worldly cure. 

Though buried deep, or thinly strewn. 

Do thou thy grace supply ; 
The hope in earthly furrows sown, 

Shall ripen for the sky ! 

B18HOF IIkkkk. 



SACRED POETRY. 39 

APPEAL OF THE BLIND. 

SUNG BY CHILDREN IN A BLIND ASYLUM. 

Ye see the glorious sun 

The varied landscape light, 
The moon, with all her starry train, 

Illume the arch of night, 
Bright tree, and bird, and flower, 

That deck your joyous way, 
The face of kindred, and of friend, 

More fair, more dear than they. 

For us there glows no sun, 

No green and flowery lawn : 
Our rayless darkness hath no moon, 

Our midnight knows no dawn. 
The parent's pitying eye, 

To all our sorrows true, 
The brother's brow, the sister's smile, 

Have never met our view. 

We have a lamp within, 

That knowledge fain would light, 
And pure religion's radiance touch 

With beams for ever bright. 
Say, shall it rise to share 

Such radiance full and free ? 
And will ye keep a Saviour's charge, 

And cause the blind to see ? 

Mrs. Sigourney. 



40 A SELECTION OF 

ON THE AUTHOR'S BLINDNESS. 

When I consider how my light is spent 

Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, 
And that one talent which is death to hide, 
Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more Lent 
To serve therewith my Maker, and present 
My true account, lest he, returning, chide. 
" Doth God exact day-labour, light denied ?" 
I fondly ask : but Patience, to prevent 
That murmur, soon replies : " God doth not need 
" Either man's work, or his own gifts; — who best 
" Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best ; his 
state 
" Is kingly; — thousands at his bidding speed, 
" And post o'er land and ocean without rest; — 
" They also serve who only stand and wait." 

Milton. 



THE FLOWERS OF THE FIELD. 

Flowers of the field, how meet ye seem 

Man's frailty to potirtniv ; 
Blooming so fair in morning's beam, 

Passing al eve away ! 
Teach As, and oh ! though short your reign, 
Sweet flowers, ve shall not live in vain. 



SACRED POETRY. 41 

Go, form a monitory wreath, 

For youth's unthinking brow ; 
Go, and to busy manhood breathe 

What most it fears to know ; 
Go, strew the path where age doth tread, 
And tell it of the silent dead. 

But, whilst to thoughtless ones and gay, 
Ye breathe these truths severe, 

To those who droop in pale decay, 
Have ye no word of cheer ? 

Oh, yes ! ye weave a double spell, 

And death and life betoken well. 

Go, then, when wrapt in fear and gloom, 
Fond hearts and true are sighing, 

And deck with emblematic bloom 
The pillow of the dying ; 

And softly speak, nor speak in vain, 

Of your long sleep and broken chain. 

And say that He who from the dust 

Recalls the slumbering flower, 
Will surely visit those who trust 

The Saviour's love and power ; 
Will mark where sleeps their peaceful clay, 
And roll, ere long, the stone away. 



42 A SELECTION OF 



THE BIRDS OF THE AlR. 

Lo ! the lilies of the field, 

How their leaves instruction yield ! 

Hark to Nature's lesson given 

By the blessed birds of heaven ! 

Every bush and tufted tree 

Warbles sweet philosophy : 

wC .Mortal, fly from doubt and sorrow, 

God provideth for the morrow ! 

'" Say with richer crimson glows 
The kingly mantle than the rose ? 
Say, have kings more wholesome fare 
Than we, poor citizens of air ? 
Barns nor hoarded grain have w% 
Yet we carol merrily. 
Mortal fly from doubt and sorrow, 
God provideth for the morrow ! 

" One there lives whose guardian eye 
Guides our humble destiny : 
One there lives who, Lord of all, 
Keeps our feathers lest they fall ; 
Pass we blithely then the time, 
Fearless of the snare and lime, 
Free from doubt and faithless sorrow, 
God provideth for the morrow." 

Bishop Hxbbr, 



SACRED POETRY. 43 

On the Anniversary Meeting of the Charity 
Schools in the Cathedral Church of St. 
Paul. 

Beneath the spacious dome I stood ; 

Ten thousand tongues "were telling 
God's praises ; and methought 'twas good 

To be thus within his dwelling. 

And high above me, and around, 

In their appointed station, 
Thick ranks of little children crown'd 

That goodly congregation. 

Twas Christian England's charity, 

With her throng of sons and daughters, 

Whose mingled voices came to me, 
Like the sound of many waters. 

And as they hymn'd the glorious truth, 

That which alike remaineth 
The covenant of age and youth, 

" The Lord, the Saviour reigneth ! " 

It seem'd as though each infant tongue 

Made there its first endeavour 
To sing th' undying song that 's sung 

Before the Throne for ever. 

T. B. Murray. 



44 A SELECTION OF 



TO A SKY-LARK. 

Ethereal minstrel ! pilgrim of the sky ! 

Dost thou despise the earth where cares abound ? 
Or, while the wings aspire, art heart and eve 

Both with thy nest upon the dewy ground ? 
Thy nest which thou canst drop into at will, 
Those quivering wings composed, that music still ! 

Leave to the nightingale her shady wood ; 

A privacy of glorious light is thine ; 
Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood 

Of harmony, with instinct more divine ; 
Type of the wise who soar, but never roam ; 
True to the kindred points of heaven and home ! 
Wordsworth. 



THE DAISY. 

Not worlds on worlds in phalanx deep, 
Need we to prove a God is here ; 

The daisy, fresh from winter's deep, 
Tells of His hand in lines as clear. 

For He alone that arched the skies, 

And pours the day-spring's living flood, 

Wondrous alike in all Ho tries, 

Could rear the daisy's purple hud ; 



SACRED POETRY. 45 

Mould its green cup, its wiry stem, 

Its fringed border nicely spin, 
And cut the gold-embossed gem, 

That, set in silver, gleams within ; 

Then fling it, unrestrained and free, 
O'er hill and dale, and desert sod, 

That man, where'er he roams, may see, 
At every step, the hand of God. 

Dr. Mason Good. 



THE WORM. 

Turn, turn thy hasty foot aside, 
Nor crush that helpless worm ; 

The frame thy wayward looks deride, 
Required a God to form. 

The common Lord of all that move, 
From whom thy being flowed, 

A portion of his boundless love 
On that poor worm bestowed. 

The sun, the moon, the stars He made, 

To all his creatures free ; 
And spreads o'er earth the grassy blade, 

For worms as well as thee. 



46 A SELECTION OF 

Let them enjoy their little day 
Their lowly bliss receive ; 

Oh ! do not lightly take away 
The life thou canst not give. 

GlSBORNK. 



A SUMMER EVENING. 

How fine has the day been, how bright was the sun, 
How lovely and joyful the course that he run, 
Though he rose in a mist when his race he begun, 

And there followed some droppings of rain ! 
But now the fair traveller's gone to the west, 
11 is rays are all gold, and his beauties are best, 
He paints the sky gay as he sinks to his rest, 

And fortels a bright rising again. 

Just such is the Christian ; his course he begins, 
Like the sun in a mist, when he mourns for his sins, 
And melts into tears ; then he breaks out and 
shines, 

And travels his heavenly way ; 
Hut when he comes nearer to finish his race, 
Like a fine setting sun, he looks richer in grace, 
And gives a sure hope at the end of his days, 

Of rising in brighter array. 

Watts. 



SACRED POETRY. 47 



THE GOLDEN RULE. 

Precept divine ! to earth in mercy given, 

A sacred rule of action worthy Heaven ! 

Whose pitying voice ordained the blest command, 

To bind our nature in a firmer band ; 

Enforce each human sufferer's strong appeal, 

And teach the selfish breast what others feel. 

Wert thou the guide of life, mankind would know 

A soft exemption from the worst of woe. 

No more the powerful would the weak oppress, 

But tyrants learn to succour and to bless ; 

No more would slavery bind a hopeless train 

Of human victims in her galling chain ; 

Mercy the hard, the cruel heart would move, 

To soften misery by the deeds of love ; 

And Avarice, from his hoarded treasures give, 

Unasked, the liberal boon, that Want might live. 

The impious tongue of falsehood then would cease 

To blast, with dark suggestions, virtue's peace ; 

No more would spleen or passion banish rest. 

Or plant a pang in fond affection's breast. 






48 A SELECTION OF 

THE CHRISTIAN'S PROSPECT. 

There is a thought can lift the soul 

Above the narrow sphere that hounds it, — 

A star, that sheds its mild controul 

Brightest, when grief's dark cloud surrounds it; 

And pours a soft, pervading ray, 

Life's ills can never chase away. 

When earthly toys have left the breast, 
And e'en the last fond hope it cherished 
Of mortal bliss — too like the rest — 
Beneath woe's withering touch has perished, 
With fadeless lustre streams that light — 
A halo on the brow of night. 

And bitter were our sojourn here 
In this dark wilderness of sorrow, 
Did not that rainbow beam appear, — 
The herald of a brighter morrow, — 
A friendly beacon from on high, 
To guide us to eternity. 

A. A. H'.VfTs. 



WEEPING PETER. 

When thou, who in doubt and in danger hadst been 

Devoted and firm to Ins side, 
Wert false to thy Lord, in the Easl awful scene, 

And liis> name and his BOITOWS denied ; 



SACRED POETRY. 49 

He pitied thy weakness, and pardoned thy fears, 

His last look was mercy to thee ! 
But oh ! in that moment how bitter thy tears, 

How deep would thy penitence be ! 

And thus when the storm of temptations arise, 

And the light of his glory is veiled, 
When the foe of the righteous exults in his prize, 

And the faith of the Christian has failed : 
Like thee, if repentant, the Saviour we seek, 

Oh ! still shall his grace be as free ; 
Nor will he condemn a believer more weak 

For a crime which he pardoned in thee. 

Dale. 



THE BEAUTIES OF CREATION. 

I praised the earth in beauty seen 
With garlands gay of various green ; 
1 praised the sea, whose ample field 
Shone glorious as a silver shield : 
And earth and ocean seemed to say, 
" Our beauties are but for a day.'" 

I praised the sun, whose chariot rolled 
On wheels of amber and of gold ; 
I praised the moon, whose softer eye, 
Gleamed sweetly through the summer sky; 



50 A SELECTION OF 

And moon and sun in answer said, 
" Our days of light are numbered.'" 

O God, good beyond compare, 
If thus thy meaner works are fair ; 
If thus thy beauties gild the span 
Of ruined earth and sinful man ; 
How glorious must that mansion be, 
Where thy redeemed shall dwell with Thee ! 
Bishop Heber. 



THE SEASONS. 

As each season passes by, 

So our life proceeds ; 
Spring and summer quickly fly, 

Autumn next succeeds. 
Move the moments slow or fast, 
Winter cold will come at last ; 

Age will crown our head with snow, 
Sight will fail, and strength will waste, 

Death will strike the final blow. 

Swiftly roll the seasons round. 
Spring will come again ; 

Let not then your year he found 
To have passed in vain. 



SACRED POETRY. 51 

Now, before the season 's o'er, 
Grace divine may we implore, 

Grace to aid our feeble powers, 
Then when time shall be no more, 

Spring eternal will be ours. 



THE OCEAN. 

Ocean exhibits, fathomless and broad, 
Much of the power and majesty of God : 
He swathes about the swelling of the deep, 
That shines and rests, as infants smile and sleep ; 
Vast as it is, it answers as it flows 
The breathings of the lightest air that blows ; 
Curling and whitening over all the waste, 
The rising waves obey the increasing blast, 
Abrupt and horrid as the tempest roars, 
Thunder and flash upon the steadfast shores ; 
Till He that rides the whirlwind checks the rein, 
Then all the world of waters sleeps again. 

Cowper. 



THE REMEMBRANCE OF THE JUST. 

Those withered leaves along the cold ground spread, 
Did once the sweetest of all flowers compose ; 
And though full many a sun hath seen them sped, 
They still are odorous as the living rose. 



52 A SELECTION OF 

So breathes the memory of departed worth, 
When years have seen it in the silent tomb ; 
There is a fragrance in the holy earth, 
Where virtue sleeps that time cannot consume : 
The good man dies, but with his parting breath, 
Bequeaths the world a sweet that knows no death, 



TIME MISEMPLOYED. 

As o'er the past my memory strays, 

Why heaves the secret sigh ? 
Tis that I mourn departed days, 

Still unprepared to die. 

The world and worldly things beloved, 
My anxious thoughts employed ; 

When time unhallowed, unimproved, 
Presents a fearful void. 

Yet, holy Father, wild despair 
Chase from this labouring breast ; 

Thy grace it is which prompts the prayer, 
That grace can do the rest. 

My life's best remnant all be thine ; 

And when thy sure decree 
Bida me this fleeting In-rath resign — 

< ) speed my soul to Thee I 

Bishop Midulbton. 



SACRED POETRY. 



REFLECTION ON THE PAST. 

'Tis greatly wise to talk with our past hours, 
And ask them what report they bore to heaven ; 
And how they might have borne more welcome 

news. 
Their answers form what men experience call ; 
If wisdom's friend, her best : if not, worst foe. 

Young. 



MEMORY. 

A pen — to register ; a key — 

That winds through secret wards; 
Are well assigned to Memory 

By allegoric bards. 
As aptly, also, might be given 

A pencil to her hand ; 
That softening objects, sometimes even 

Outstrips the heart's demand ! 
That smooths foregone distress, the lines 

Of lingering care subdues, 
Long vanished happiness refines, 

And clothes in brighter hues ; 
Yet like a tool of Fancy, works 

Those spectres to dilate 
That startle Conscience as she lurks 

Within her lonely seat. 



54 A SELECTION OF 

that our lives, which flee so fast, 

In purity were such, 
That not an image of the past 

Should fear that pencil's touch ! 

Retirement then might hourly look 

Upon a soothing scene, 
Age steal to his allotted work 

Contented and serene ; 

With heart as calm as lakes that sleep 

In frosty moonlight glistening ; 
Or mountain rivers, where they creep, 
Along a channel smooth and deep, 

To their own far-off murmurs listening. 

Wordsworth. 



THE DEPARTURE OF THE CHRISTIAN. 

Dear as thou wert, and justly dear, 

We will not weep for thee : 
One thought shall check the starting tear, 

It is — that thou art free. 
And thus shall faith's consoling power 

The tears of love restrain ; 
Oh ! who that saw thy parting hour, 

Could wish thee hero again ? 



SACRED POETRY. 

Triumphant in thy closing eye, 

The hope of glory shone ; 
Joy breathed in thy expiring sigh, 

To think the fight was won. 
Gently the passing spirit fled, 

Sustained by grace divine ; 
Oh ! may such grace on me be shed, 

And make my end like thine. 

Dale. 



DYING FRIENDS. 

Our dying friends come o'er us like a cloud, 
To damp our brainless ardours ; and abate 
That glare of life which often blinds the wise. 
Our dying friends are pioneers, to smooth 
Our rugged pass to death ; to break those bars 
Of terror and abhorrence nature throws 
Cross our obstructed way ; and thus to make 
Welcome as safe our port from every storm. 

Young. 



FRIENDS SEPARATED BY DEATH. 

Friend after friend departs ! 

Who hath not lost a friend ? 
There is no union here of hearts 

That finds not here an end ! 



56 A SELECTION OF 

Wore this frail world our final rest. 
Living or dying, none were blest. 

Beyond the flight of time — 
Beyond the reign of death — 

There surely is some blessed clime, 
Where life is not a breath : 

Nor life's affection transient fire, 

Whose sparks fly upward and expire. 

There is a world above, 

Where parting is unknown ; 

A long eternity of love 

Formed for the good alone ; 

And faith beholds the dying here 

Translated to that glorious sphere. 

Thus star by star declines, 

Till all are past way ; 
As morning high and higher shines, 

To pure and perfect day : 
Nor sink those stars in empty night, 
But hide themselves in heaven's own light. 
J. Montgomery, 



SACRED POETRY. 57 



FRIENDSHIP. 

I turned me to an ancient rock 
That breasts the ocean's track, 

And saw it brave the billows 1 shock, 
Then send them foaming back. 

Fixed to this hard enduring bed 

A small sea-plant I spied, 
Which flourished there, and cheerly spread 

Its tresses o'er the tide. 

And when the waves came howling on, 

Above the surge it rose, 
Or clung more closely to the stone, 

To wait the tempest's close. 

Thus true, amidst a world of strife, 

Unshaken by its breath, 
May faithful friendship crown my life, 

Nor quit my side at death ! 

Yet say, upon what hallowed ground 

Can deathless friendship be ? 
Thou Rock of ages ! let us found 

Our friendships firm in Thee ! 

T. B. Murray. 



58 A SELECTION OF 



THE VANITY OF WORLDLY 
PLEASURES. 

Unthinking, idle, wild, and young, 

I laughed, and talked, and danced, and sung ; 

And proud of health, of freedom vain, 

Dreamed not of sorrow, care, or pain ; 

Concluding in those hours of glee, 

That all the world was made for me. 

But when the days of trial came, 
When sickness shook this trembling frame, 
When folly's gay pursuits were o'er, 
And I could dance and sing no more ; 
It then occurred how sad 'twould be, 
Were this world only made for me. 

Princess Amelia, youngest daughter of 
King George III. 



THE DANGERS OF PROSPERITY. 

That shining shield invites the tyrant's spear, 
As if to damp our elevated aims, 
And strongly preach humility to man. 
(), how portentous is prosperity ! 



SACRED POETRY. 59 

How, comet-like, it threatens, while it shines ! 
Few years but yield us proof of death's ambition 
To cull his victims from the fairest fold, 
And sheath his shafts in all the pride of life. 
When flooded with abundance, purpled o'er 
With recent honours, bloomed with every bliss, 
Set up in ostentation, made the gaze, 
The gaudy centre of the public eye ; 
When fortune thus has tossed her child in air, 
Snatched from the covert of a humble state, 
How often have I seen him dropped at once, 
Our morning's envy and our evening's sigh ! 
As if her bounties were the signal given, 
The flowery wreath to mark the sacrifice, 
And call death's arrows on the destined prey. 

Young. 



CONTENTMENT. 

When all within is peace, 

How nature seems to smile ! 
Delights that never cease 

The live-long day beguile. 
From morn to dewy eve 

With open hand she showers. 
Fresh blessings, to deceive 

And soothe the silent hours. 



60 A SELECTION OF 

It is content of heart 

Gives nature power to please ; 
The mind that feels no smart 

Enlivens all it sees ; 
Can make a wintry sky 

Seem bright as smiling May, 
And evening's closing eve 

As peep of early day. 

The vast majestic globe 

So beauteously arrayed, 
In nature's various robe 

With wondrous skill displayed, 
Is to a mourner's heart 

A weary wild' at best, 
It flutters to depart, 

And longs to be at rest. 

COW PER. 

THE VICARAGE. 

Blest be the hand that gave me this retreat, 
In which unnumbered mercies daily meet ; 
Oh ! may a home so rich in peace to me, 
Be found a temple, gracious Lord, to Thee ! — 
Oh ! may it be to thee a house of prayer, 
Who deign'st to make it thy paternal care, 
And sweet as incense may my praise ascend 
To God my Father, and to God my Friend ! 



SACRED POETRY. 61 

My peaceful garden, sweetest of its kind, 

Should also bring thy goodness, Lord, to mind : 

At all times cheerful, and at all times gay, 

It emiles in winter as in genial May : 

Made to dispel each rising cloud of gloom, 

And cheer my pathway to the silent tomb ; 

May its green plants and fragrant flowers which 

blow, 
Lead me to Him " from whom all blessings flow,'" 

To Him who in a garden prayed and bled, 
That I might live when numbered with the dead. 
Then when I'm called to leave this loved retreat, 
My spirit shall thy gracious welcome meet, 
Then shall my garden point to that blest place 
Once lost to Adam and his guilty race ; 
Then shall I leave it for the Eden won 
Again for man by God's eternal Son. 

B. Richings. 



THE DEPARTURE OF SUMMER. 

The glory of summer 

Is faded and fled, 
The wreaths that adorned her 

Are dying or dead ; 



G2 A SELECTION OF 

The autumn is coming, 

And strong in its blast, 
Will open for winter 

A passage at last. 

Oh ! how to my spirit 

It seemeth to say, 
Thus too is thy summer 

Fast fading away ; 
And the things that thou lovest, 

Though beautiful now, 
And the friends thou hast chosen 

Are fragile as thou. 

Dost thou covet a summer 

More certain of bliss ? 
Go seek thee a country 

Far brighter than this : 
Where joys thou hast lost 

Thou shalt never deplore, 
Where the friends thou hast chosen 

Shall quit thee no more. 

E. Can w am.. 

THE FALLING LEAF. 
Sad but instructive emblem of decay I 

To feverish hopes and slumbering tears addn issed, 

Thy pensive tale a moral has impressed, 

That youth should read before the winter's day. 



SACRED POETRY. 63 

For come it must hereafter, and it may 
Outstrip the mellowing year. Go to thy rest, 
Pale beauty of the wood ; no more caressed, 
No more to join the desolated spray ! 
Ev'n so man's leaf descends into the dust, 
And falls to rise no more. But as the bough 
At spring's return another leaf shall find, 
And clothe itself again ; the good and just, 
Though naked and bereft their branches now, 
To vernal honours will again be joined, 
In leaves that never shall their fall deplore, 
Whose bough the winter's hand shall touch no 
more. 

George Hardinge. 



THE SAME SUBJECT. 

See the leaves around us falling 
Dry and withered to the ground ; 

Thus to thoughtless mortals calling 
With a sad and solemn sound : — 

u Sons of Adam, (once in Eden 
Where like us he blighted fell,) 

Hear the lesson we are reading, 
Mark the awful truth we tell. 



64 A SELECTION OF 

** Youth, on length of days presuming, 
Who the paths of pleasure tread, 

View us late in beauty blooming, 
Numbered now among the dead. 

" What though yet no losses grieve you, 
Gay with health and many a grace, 

Let not cloudless skies deceive you, 
Summer gives to autumn place. 

" Yearly in our course returning, 

Messengers of shortest stay, 
Thus we preach this truth concerning, 

Heaven and earth shall pass away. 

" On the tree of life eternal 
let all your hopes be laid ! 

This alone, for ever vernal, 

Bears a leaf that shall not fade." 

Bishop Hornk. 



MORTALITY. 

Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright, 
Bridal of earth and sky. 

The dew shall weep thy fall to-night, 
For thnu. alas ! musl die. 



SACRED POETRY. G5 

Sweet rose, in air whose odours wave, 

And colours charm the eye, 
Thy root is ever in its grave, 

And thou, alas ! must die. 

Sweet spring, of days and roses made, 

"Whose charms for beauty vie, 
Thy days depart, thy roses fade, 

Thou too, alas ! must die. 

Be wise then, Christian, while you may, 

For time is swiftly flying ; 
The thoughtless man who laughs to day, 

To-morrow may be dying. 



FUNERAL SERVICE. 

From the baptismal hour, through weal and woe, 
The church extends her care to thought and deed, 
Nor quits the Body when the Soul is freed, 

The mortal weight cast off to be laid low. 

Blest Rite for him who hears in faith, u I know 
That my Redeemer liveth," — hears each word 
That follows — striking on some kindred chord 

Deep in the thankful heart ; — yet tears will flow. 
Man is as grass that springeth up at mom, 

Grows green, and is cut down and withereth 
Ere nightfall — truth that well may claim a sigh, 



i)6 A SELECTION OF 

In natural echo ; but hope comes reborn 

At Jesu's bidding. We rejoice; " Death, 
Where is thy sting? Ograve, where is thy victory?' 1 
Wordsworth. 



THE RESURRECTION. 

The wintry winds have ceased to blow, 
And trembling leaves appear ; 

And fairest flowers succeed the snow, 
And hail the infant year. 

So when the world and all its woes 

Are vanished far away. 
Fair scenes and wonderful repose 

Shall bless the new-born day ■— 

When, from the confines of the grave 

The body too shall rise, 
No more precarious passion's >lavc, 

Nor error's sacrifice. 

Tia but a sleep — and Sinn's King 

Will call the many dead ; 
Tis but a Bleep— and then we Bing 

O'er dreams of sorrow fled. 



SACRED POETRY. 67 

Yes! — wintry winds have ceased to blow, 

And trembling leaves appear, 
And nature has her types to shew 

Throughout the varying year. 

Crabbe. 



DEATH OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 

Like summer eve, when sunlight throws 

A beauteous parting ray around ; 
And silent shades in peace repose 

Upon the soft and dewy ground. 

As still, as peaceful, and serene, 
Is the last ray when life is done ; 

When Hope's bright beam smiles o'er the scene 
Which saw a glorious race begun. 

What, though around his couch may fall 
The dcwdrops from kind pity's eye ; 

The happy spirit smiles on all, 
And shines upon another sky. 

Oh ! such his life, whose parting ray 
Throws lustre on a world of sorrow ; 

For as its brightness dies away, 

There 's promise of a glorious morrow. 



68 A SELECTION OF 

THE UNCERTAINTY OF LIFE. 

Ah ! who can tell which hour may be his last? 

Perhaps my summons now is on its way ; 
Then let me rather muse upon the past, 

Than count securely on the coming day. 

Full many a ship that sailed at smiling morn, 
Rich in her freight, and of her bravery vain, 

'Midst changing skies, o'er raging billows borne, 
Hath found, ere night, her grave beneath the 
main. 

Then let us seek a dwelling that shall last, 
Far, far above this mouldering house of clay, 

That, when this little life is gone and past, 
Ours be the bliss that never shall decay. 

Ere gentle sleep upon my eyelids fall, 

To Thee, God, would I my soul resign ; 

For thy dear Son, forgive me when I call, 
That if I live or die, I may be thine. 

T. B. Murray. 



THE JEWISH NATION. 

What nation will you find whose annals prove 
So rich an interest in almighty love ? 
Where dwell they now? where dwelt in ancient day 
A people planted, watered, blessed as they ? 



SACRED POETRY. G9 

Let Egypt's plagues and Canaan's woes proclaim 
The favours poured upon the Jewish name ; 
Their freedom purchased for them at the cost 
Of all their hard oppressors valued most, 
Their title to a country not their own 
Made sure by prodigies till then unknown; 
For them the state they left made waste and void, 
For them the states to which they went destroyed; 
A cloud to measure out their march by day, 
By night a fire to cheer the gloomy way, 
That moving signal summoning, when best, 
Their host to move, and when it stayed, to rest. 
For them the rocks dissolved into a flood, 
The dews condensed into angelic food, 
Their very garments sacred, old yet new, 
And Time forbid to touch them as he flew ; 
Streams swelled above the bank enjoined to stand, 
While the}' passed through to their appointed land ; 
Their leader armed with meekness,- zeal, and love, 
And graced with clear credentials from above ; 
Themselves secure beneath the Almighty wing ; 
Their God their captain, lawgiver, and king; 
Crowned with a thousand victories, and at last 
Lords of the conquered soil, there rooted fast, 
In peace possessing what they won by war, 
Their name far published, and revered as far. 
Where will you find a race like theirs, endowed 
With all that man e'er wished or Heaven bestowed ? 



70 A SELECTION OF 

They and they only amongst all mankind 
Received the transcript of the eternal mind, 
Were trusted with his own engraven laws, 
And constituted guardians of his cause ; 
Theirs were the prophets, theirs the priestly call. 
And theirs by birth the Saviour of us all. 

COWPER. 



CHRIST WEEPING OVER JERUSALEM. 

Salem ! who, in proud disdain, 

My faithful prophets slew ; 
And soon, the cup of guilt to drain, 

Wilt shy thy Saviour too ! 

How had my love thy children blest, 
Their deeds of blood forgot, 

And led them to eternal rest ; 
But they consented not ! 

Now shall thy house be desolate, 

Thy glory now shall close ; 
Nor leave one trace of ruined 

To tell where Salem rose. 

Nor ahalt thou thy Redeemei 
N<>r hail thy crown restored, 

Till thou sh.ilt say, M I low blest li lie 
Whom Thou hasl sent, 1 1 Lord ! H 

Dad. 



SACRED POETRY. 71 



THE EXAMPLE OF THE JEWS. 

Their glory faded, and their race dispersed, 
The last of nations now, though once the first, 
They warn and teach the proudest, would they learn, 
Keep wisdom or meet vengeance in your turn. 
If we escaped not, if Heaven spared not us, 
Peeled, scattered, and exterminated thus ; 
If vice received her retribution due, 
When we were visited, what hope for you ? 
When God arises with an awful frown, 
To punish lust, or pluck presumption down ; 
When gifts perverted, or not duly prized, 
Pleasure o'ervalued, and his grace despised, 
Provoke the vengeance of his righteous hand, 
To pour down wrath upon a thankless land, 
He will be found impartially severe, 
Too just to wink, or speak the guilty clear. 

Cowper. 



MESSIAH'S REIGN. 

Behold, the mountain of the Lord 
In latter days shall rise, 

Shall tower above the meaner hills, 
And draw the wondring eyes. 



72 A SELECTION OF 

To this the joyful nations round, 
All tribes and tongues shall flow ; 

* Ascend the hill of God," they say, 
" And to his temple go ! " 

The beam that shines on Sion's hill 

Shall lighten every land, 
The king that reigns in Sion's town'* 

Shall all the world command. 

No strife shall vex Messiah's reign 

Or mar the peaceful years ; 
To ploughshares shall they beat their swords 

To pruning-hooks their spears. 

Come then, oh come from every land. 

To worship at his shrine ; 
And walking in the light of God, 

With holy beauty shine. 

Logan. 



THE SECOND COMING OF CHRIST. 

The Lord will come ! the earth shall quake, 

The hilK their fixed seat forsake ; 
And, withering from the vault of night 
The stars withdraw their feeble light. 



SACRED POETRY. i 

The Lord will come ! but not the same 

As once in lowly form He came, 

A silent lamb to slaughter led, 

The bruised, the suffering, and the dead. 

The Lord will come ! a dreadful form, 
With wreath of flame, and robe of storm, 
On cherub wings, and wings of wind, 
Anointed Judge of human-kind ! 

Go, tyrants ! to the rocks complain ! 
Go, seek the mountain's cleft in vain ! 
But Faith, victorious o'er the tomb, 
Shall sing for joy — the Lord is come. 

Bishop Hebef. 



THE DAY OF WRATH. 

The day of wrath ! — that dreadful day, 
When heaven and earth shall pass away, 
What power shall be the sinner's stay ? 
How shall he meet that dreadful day ? 

When shrivelling like a parched scroll, 
The flaming heavens together roll ; 
When, louder yet, and yet more dread, 
Swells the high trump that wakes the dead : 



7 1 A SELECTION OF 

Oh, on that day, that wrathful day, 
When man to judgment wakes from clay, 
Be THOU the trembling sinner's stay, 
Though heaven and earth shall pass away ! 

Sir Walter Scott. 



THE TARES DESTROYED. 

The angel comes, he comes to reap 

The harvest of the Lord ! 
O'er all the earth, with fatal sweep, 

Wide waves his flaming sword. 

And who are they in sheaves, to bide 
The fire of vengeance, bound ? 

The tares, whose rank luxuriant pride 
Choked the fair crop around. 

And who are they reserved in store 
God's treasure house to fill ? 

The wheat, a hundredfold that bore 
Amid surrounding ill. 

King of mercy ! grant us power 

Thy fiery wrath to flee ! 
In thy destroying angel'a hour, 

( I gather us to thee ! 

MlLMAN. 



SACRED POETRY. i 



HEAVEN. 



There is a region, lovelier far 
Than sages tell, or poets sing ; 
Brighter than summer's beauties are, 
And softer than the tints of spring. 

It is not found by summer's gale ; 
'Tis not refreshed by vernal showers ; 
It never needs the moonbeam pale, — 
For there are known no evening hours. 

No ; for this world is ever bright 
With a pure radiance all its own : 
The streams of uncreated light 
Flow round it, from th' eternal throne. 

It is all holy and serene, 

The land of glory and repose ; 

No cloud obscures the radiant scene — 

There, not a tear of sorrow flows. 

In vain the philosophic eye 

May seek to view the fair abode, 

Or find it in the curtained sky : 

It is — THE DWELLING-PLACE 01-' GOD. 



7G A SELECTION OF SACRED POETRY. 



THE NEW JERUSALEM. 

Lo ! cherub-hands the golden courts prepare, 
Lo ! thrones are set, and every saint is there ; 
Earth's utmost hounds confess their awful sway, 
The mountains worship, and the isles obey ; 
Nor sun, nor moon they need; — nor day nor night, 
God is their temple, and the Lamb their light. 
And shall not Israel's sons exulting come, 
Hail the glad beam, and claim their ancient home ? 
On David's throne shall David's offspring reign, 
And the dry bones be warmed with life again. 
Hark ! white -robed crowds their deep hosannas 

raise, 
And the hoarse flood repeats the sounds of praise ; 
Ten thousand harps attune the mystic song, 
Ten thousand thousand saints the strain prolong; — 
M Worthy the Lamb ! omnipotent to Bare, 
Who died, who lives, triumphant o'er the grave." 
Bishop Hebek. 



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